Harold's Odyssey
by geowyn
Summary: For once in his life things start going right for Harold. Will it last? Chapter 1 is up, more to follow.
1. Chapter 1

It had not been the most successful of mornings. Dejected, Harold gave Hercules his oats then sat on the seat and unwrapped his sandwiches.

"Not cheese again." He complained when he opened them. "Just for once I would love some ham, or tongue, or a nice bit of roast beef." He bit into the sandwich and immediately spit it out. "The bread is mouldy!" He exclaimed. "What else is going to go wrong today?" He climbed down from the cart and threw the sandwiches into the nearest bin then checked the money in his pockets. "Seventeen and a half pence. I bet I can get a sausage roll with that, even a pie."

As he approached the cart with a paper bag containing 2 hot sausage rolls he saw a young women stroking Hercules. He hurried over.

"Hello Miss, can I help you?" She smiled at him.

"If you are the owner of this cart and this lovely horse then you most certainly can."

"This is my cart Miss, I am Harold Steptoe, and this is my horse, Hercules."

"Wonderful name for a horse. My name is Janet Lowe and I am a teacher at Boothen School. My class are doing a project about jobs and professions that are disappearing and we have had people who practise these professions come in and give us a talk. So far we have had a chimney sweep, a thatcher, and a very old gentleman who used to light the old gas lamps. The children have been very interested to hear what these gentlemen have had to say and have had lots of questions. I wonder if you would be interested in coming in and telling my class all about your life as a rag and bone man. If you are not too busy of course." Harold was stunned; this was the last thing he would have expected.

"Miss Lowe, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to come and talk to your class." She smiled again.

"I am so pleased to hear that Mr Steptoe, my class will be very excited to meet you and Hercules. You will bring your cart won't you?"

"Of course, if that is no trouble."

"Not at all. I will inform the caretaker, Mr Willis; he will open the gates for you and show you where to come."

"Just tell me when you want me there."

"We have our History lesson Tuesday afternoons at 2.30. If the weather is fine we have it in the yard, so if it is not raining the children will see you come in and will be able to see Hercules and the cart."

"I will be there Miss Lowe."

"Thank you so much Mr Steptoe, I can't wait to tell my class."

"Thank you Miss Lowe."

"I won't keep you, I am sure you are busy. I will see you and Hercules next Tuesday."

"Goodbye Miss." She walked away and he took one of the sausage rolls out of the bag. "Looks like today is not going to be so bad after all."

He said nothing to his father about his meeting with the young teacher or the invitation to visit the school. He knew the old man would scoff and ridicule and he wanted to keep this to himself.

Tuesday morning he was up early and gave Hercules an extra brushing.

"You are going to meet some children today and I want you to look your best." Harold himself was wearing a combination of work clothes and some of his smarter clothes, not wanting to look too scruffy to the children.

At 2.20 he pulled up outside the gates of Boothen School. A man was waiting.

"You must be Mr Steptoe, Miss Lowe is expecting you."

"Thank you Mr Willis." The gate was opened and he clicked his tongue, Hercules trotted obediently through.

"Turn right there and you will see the benches the children use." Said Mr Willis. "Plenty of room for you to manoeuvre."

"Very much appreciated Mr Willis." As the cart moved through the yard he could see children's faces watching through windows, and then he saw the benches. He brought Hercules to a stop and jumped down from the cart just as the door opened and what seemed like dozens of children came running out. He was surprised to see them all sit on the benches and wait quietly. Then Miss Lowe came out.

"Mr Steptoe, how lovely to see you. Thank you so much for agreeing to take time out of your busy day to come and talk to the class."

"It is my pleasure Miss Lowe, children. I have prepared a little talk, telling a little of the history of totting, as we call it, and how I came to be a totter. Then I thought perhaps the children could ask questions."

"That is perfect Mr Steptoe." Said Miss Lowe. "The children were so excited when I told them you were coming, more so when they heard Hercules would be here."

"Well if you like, before I leave you can come and say hello to Hercules. He likes children."


	2. Chapter 2

When Harold began to talk to the children he was nervous, never having spoken in public before, but they gave him their full attention and were so obviously interested in what he was saying that he soon lost his nerves and began to enjoy it.

He told them about the history of totting and some of the more famous people who had been totters then went on to tell them about his family and how he had come to join the business.

When he finished a forest of hands went up and Miss Lowe, who had been listening as intently as the children, selected those to ask questions. Some of the questions were ones he had been expecting, like what he did with the things people gave him. Others asked him about Hercules and the cart. One red-headed girl asked if there were any lady totters, and one boy floored him completely when he asked if he had ever collected anything from Buckingham Palace.

As promised he allowed the children to say hello to Hercules and they all rushed over. He was very touched to see that some of them had brought carrots for the horse, which he ate from their hands.

"You have a wonderful class Miss Lowe." He said to the teacher who was standing and watching the children.

"I know." She said. "They are a very bright bunch, very friendly and so eager to learn. Tomorrow they will write about what they have learned today and I pick out the best to be displayed on the wall. There is a lot of competition to get their work on the wall."

"I can see you are a very good teacher Miss Lowe, they are very lucky to have you." At this she blushed slightly.

"You are very kind Mr Steptoe."

It was time to go. Harold mounted the cart and took the reins, then turned to wave to the children as they drove away. The children all waved enthusiastically and shouted goodbye until they were out of sight.

Mr Willis was there at the gate to let them out.

"I understand your visit was a great success Mr Steptoe."

"Yes, I rather think it was Mr Willis. Thank you once again."

"Goodbye Mr Steptoe."

"Goodbye Mr Willis."

After stopping for a cup of tea and a bun in a café Harold continued his rounds, all the while thinking about the children. He could remember when he was that age, enthusiastic and excited about everything. What had happened?

"This job happened." He muttered to himself. "This dead end job with nothing to work for, no hope and no prospects."


	3. Chapter 3

"**Good evening Pater." Said Harold as he came into the house.**

"**Why are you so cheerful?" Snarled his father.**

"**Can a man not be cheerful when he returns home after a weary day toiling?"**

"**You've been drinking haven't you? Spending money we don't have you selfish little worm." Harold bent down to his father.**

"**Smell my breath you miserable little man, I have not been drinking. I am cheerful because I have had a good day. Something very pleasant has happened and it has brought a little pleasure into my mundane existence."**

"**You must have pulled then, only a bird could make you this cheerful. Met some tart have you?"**

"**Actually father, today I was appreciated. Something that happens rarely to me. I was invited to give a talk to a class of children who are learning about trades which are disappearing in the modern world."**

"**You wasted time talking to a bunch of brats when you should have been working? You idle……" He stopped as Harold turned and glared at him.**

"**I considered it an honour father. The children were very polite and they were interested in what I had to say. They asked lots of questions and made a fuss of the horse. I felt more welcome there in that hour than I do here. I am glad I did it and do not consider it to be a waste of my time. I am now going to get washed and changed; when I come down I want my tea on the table." Albert pulled a face at Harold's retreating back then went into the kitchen.**

**Things were strained between father and son for some days after that. Albert tried to make peace with Harold but his son refused to speak to him, ignoring him whenever he could. This was hardly a rare occurrence, but it lasted longer than usual. Albert began to wonder what he could do to make things up to his son and improve the atmosphere in the house.**


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Harold, Albert or Hercules. They belong to the phenomenal writing team of Galton and Simpson. All other characters are mine.

Harold was on the cart, humming a tune to himself, it had been a reasonable day and he was feeling rather cheerful. He was disturbed from his little reverie by a voice shouting" Mummy, it's Hercules!" He brought the cart to a halt and looked around. Hurrying to wards him was one of the boys from Miss Lowe's class, pulling his mother by the hand. "It is mummy, it's Hercules." They reached the cart. "Hello Mr Steptoe."

"Hello there."

"I'm so sorry to disturb you." Said the boy's mother. "Gordon has been talking about Hercules ever since you visited his class."

"He told you about that?"

"Oh yes. He loves these lessons about the disappearing trades; he comes home and tells his dad and me all about them. He was particularly excited about your visit because he loves horses, he told us about Hercules in great detail."

"I am very pleased to hear that. When Miss Lowe asked me to talk to her class I did wonder if they would really be interested, but they asked so many questions about totting and how long I have been doing it. And of course they all wanted to say hello to Hercules, he really enjoyed all the attention."

"I'm sure he did, he is a lovely horse. You obviously take very good care of him."

"That I do, and not just because he pulls the cart. He is a lovely animal, so gentle, and he never complains. I try not to work him too hard, we have been through a lot together." The woman smiled.

"It is good to see you and Hercules appreciate each other." She turned to her son. "Gordon, we can't keep Mr Steptoe from his work. Say goodbye to Hercules."

"Goodbye Hercules." Said Gordon. "I hope I see you again."

"We will look out for you." Harold promised. "Goodbye to you both." With a twitch on the reins, Hercules moved on.

After taking care of Hercules Harold entered the house. Things had been a little less strained lately; his father was clearly trying not to antagonise him.

"Is that you Harold?" His father called from the kitchen. Harold had sat down to remove his boots.

"No, it's the Prince of Wales." He called back. Albert came in.

"It is you."

"Of course it's me. Who else is it likely to be? No one else comes willingly to this dump. What's for tea? I'm starving."

"I went down the market and got us some kippers."

"I hope they're fresh. Last kippers you got were so old Noah was sailing his ark when they last saw water."

"They wasn't that bad, they just smelt a bit that's all."

"Smelt a bit? We had every cat within a 5-mile radius scratching at the door. They was horrible."

"Well these are fresh, really fresh. Paid full price for them I did. Cooked them in a bit of butter, just as you like them."

"And what have I done to warrant all this treatment?"

"What treatment?"

"Being nice to me, cooking things I like. This is not normal behaviour from you and it worries me."

"You've been doing well lately; we have a bit more money in the pot. We can have some decent grub now." Harold looked suspiciously at his father.

"Are you up to something? Have you done something I don't know about and you are buttering me up before you tell me so I won't wring your scrawny little neck?"

"No son, honest. We can eat better because of the money you have been making. That's all."

"Ok, then. Well, bring it in, I'm ready for it."

As promised, the kippers were fresh and were very tasty. Harold mopped up the last of the butter with a piece of bread and put it in his mouth.

"Well father, you outdid yourself there. That was a repast fit for a king."

"Glad you enjoyed it." Albert began to clear away the dishes. "I'll make us a nice cup of tea."

"Something nice happened today." Said Harold. "Something that has never happened to me before."

"What was that then?"

"Someone called to me by name in the street."

"Hope they had some good stuff for you."

"They didn't have anything for me."

"What did they call you for then?"

"It was one of the boys from that class I went to visit a couple of weeks ago. He remembered me and he remembered the horse and he wanted to say hello. He was with his mum and he dragged her over."

"I knew it, you met a tart."

"I did not such thing. She was a very nice woman. She told me how the little lad had enjoyed my talk and how he had told her all about Hercules. Gordon his name is."

"How much did you give him?"

"Pardon?"

"How much did you give the little brat? That's why he was so nice to you; he knows you are a soft touch."

"Has it never occurred to you that there are some people in this world who are not money-grabbing gits, or do you judge everyone by yourself? He just wanted to say hello to the horse."

"When are you going to learn that no-one in this world does nothing for nothing? You are a soft touch, that's why you keep getting taken advantage of." Harold got to his feet.

"Only one who takes advantage of me is you. You could teach the world about money-grabbing." He sat to put his boots back on. "Don't bother making me a cup of tea; I'm going down the pub."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know." He slammed the door as he left the house.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Harold, Albert and Hercules.

Harold got on the bus and sat down. He had no idea where he was going; he just needed to get away from his father.

"Why does he always do this to me? Why does he always make nice things sound cheap and ugly? Why shouldn't I have something nice happen to me? I know there are nice people out there."

He got off the bus and walked along the street. There were a couple of pubs on the street and he turned into one. He went into the bar and ordered a pint, then looked around him. From the bar he was able to see into the lounge, there was a group of young people in there all talking animatedly. Harold looked at them wistfully; he had always wanted to be able to take part in that kind of easy friendship with people.

"Mr Steptoe." He was so surprised to hear his name he spun round so fast he spilled some of his pint. "I thought it was you."

"Miss Lowe, what a surprise. How are you?"

"I'm well thank you. I'm here with some friends in the lounge; would you like to join us?"

"Oh, I couldn't. But thank you for the invitation."

"Nonsense, I won't take no for an answer. I have told them all about you and how you came to talk to the children, they would love to meet you."

"Well, if you are sure, I would love to join you." She beamed.

"Lovely, come on through." He followed her into the lounge and over to the group of people. "Here he is everyone; this is the gentleman I have been telling you about, Harold Steptoe. Mr Steptoe, these are my friends, Pete, Louise, Ben, Roger, Carole, Stuart and Yvonne."

"Pleased to meet you all." He said shyly.

"What a pleasure it is to meet you Me Steptoe." Roger shook his hand warmly. "My sister has told us so much about you and the way you charmed that class of hers."

"They are still talking about your visit." Said Miss Lowe.

"That is very good to hear." Said Harold. "I enjoyed talking to them all; they are a nice class of children."

"How is Hercules?" Asked Louise. "Jan tells us he was the star of the show."

"He loved every minute of it." Harold was beginning to relax a little. "In fact, one of your boys came to say hello to him today on the street. Gordon his name, he was with his mother."

"Ah, Gordon." Miss Lowe smiled. "He loves horses. He wants to be a jockey when he gets older; he is so small I think he might make it."

Harold could not believe what was happening. He had been invited to join a group of young, educated people and they had accepted him. They did not care he was a rag and bone man, they were interested in him and what he had to say. He had never enjoyed himself so much in his life. This was what he had dreamed of all these years.

By the end of the evening they were all calling him Harry, which he liked, and he called them all by their names, including Miss Lowe.

"You must call me Jan." She had insisted. "Or I will have to call you Mr Steptoe."

"Jan it is then."

"You must come and drink with us again." Said Stuart as they were all preparing to leave.

"I would like that very much, thank you."

"We are here Tuesday and Thursday, after art classes."

"Are you all artists?" A couple of them laughed.

"None of us are that talented Harry." Said Yvonne. "I wish I were. We take evening classes to try to become artists. It is interesting and we all enjoy it, and then we come for a drink."

"You should come Harry." Said Roger. "Come and have a go, try your hand at painting. You can't be any worse than me."

"Very true." Said Carole dryly. "He is a terrible painter; he only goes so he can join us for a drink." They all laughed.

"Perhaps I will." Said Harold. "Wouldn't hurt to try it. And if I am completely useless I can just wait here and get the drinks in for when you finish."

"We will be outside the Art School at 6 on Thursday." Said Jan. "We will wait for you so you don't have to go in alone."

"Thank you very much. "Harold was touched. "I look forward to seeing you all. And thank you for tonight, it has been a real pleasure." Then to his astonishment, the men shook his hand and the women kissed his cheek. Scarlet with embarrassment he mumbled his goodbyes and left the pub.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Harold got home, he had forgotten why he was angry with his father and was in a very good mood. This ended when he entered the house and saw Albert watching TV.

"Where the hell have you been?" Demanded his father.

"None of your business. I am old enough to go out without having to tell you where." Something in his son's tone made Albert change tactics.

"I was worried about you Son, storming out like that. Anything could have happened to you and I would never have known until the police came knocking on the door."

"I am going to bed." And Harold was gone. Stunned, Albert sat in his chair. What was he going to do? Harold was changing and he did not like it. The extra money coming in was nice, but not this change in Harold. What could he do to get things back to normal?

"I bet it's a bird. I bet he's seeing some bird. I know. I'll get him to invite her back here, she can come for tea. He will be nicer to me then."

Up in his room Harold was thinking about what had happened during the day. He had met people who liked him, really liked him. They had listened to and been interested in what he had to say, that had never happened to him before. He had actually been among people who welcomed him, indeed, had invited him to join them.

"I will go." He decided. "I will go to that class. I am going to learn to paint even if I am useless. I am going to have a life."

Harold had gone out to work when Albert got up the following morning, so he was not able to speak to him until the evening. He cleaned the house up a little and made a steak and kidney pudding for tea. Harold couldn't be mad at him now.

"Hello Harold." He simpered as his son came in. "Had a good day?"

"Not one of my better days."

"Well, never mind. Come and have your tea, I made a nice steak and kidney pudding."

"I hope the crust is a little softer than the last one you made, needed hammer and chisel to eat that."

"It weren't that bad."

"It was that bad and you know it. You couldn't manage it with or without your teeth."

"Well this is a really nice one."

"We'll see."

"What do you think Harold?" Asked Albert when they had finished eating.

"It far exceeded my expectations Father. Very palatable."

"I knew you'd like it." He cleared away the plates. "I'll cook that for your girlfriend if you want to bring her home one day."

"What girlfriend? I haven't got a girlfriend."

"You haven't got a bird?"

"No."

"Then where were you last night?"

"I went to a pub and met up with some friends, I was with them."

"What friends? You haven't got any bleeding friends."

"For your information Father I do have friends. I have a group of very nice friends who enjoy my company as much as I enjoy theirs. I will no doubt be spending more time with them."

"You can't afford to go out."

"I will make sure I can, to get away from you as often as I can."

"Don't be like that Harold, I didn't mean it. I get lonely here on my own. I'm an old man."

"You don't mind being here on your own when I'm out grafting. Oh no, you don't mind that. But as soon as there is the remotest chance that I may actually be enjoying myself, you are lonely. And I fall for it. But not this time Father, not this time. So you can whine and complain all you like, I am going out with my friends."


	7. Chapter 7

Many apologies for the delay in posting, we have had swine flu in the family. All recovered now thank goodness.

As always, I do not own Harold, Albert or Hercules. They belong to the phenomenal writing team of Ray Galton and Alan Simpson. All other characters are mine.

Harold thought long and hard about what he would wear for his first art class. Tempted as he was to wear a smock and beret he did not want to stand out, so he decided on corduroy trousers and a plain shirt.

"Where the hell are you going?" Demanded his father when he came downstairs. "You are always going out these days, leaving me all on my own. Anything could happen to me while you are gadding about, you don't care."

"Father, you have proved many times how healthy you are even though you look like an animated corpse. I doubt very much anything will happen to you while I am out, you just want to stop me having a life."

"You have a life, here with me. Why do you want to go out all the time?"

"I will not dignify that with an answer Father. Don't wait up for me."

He got to the Art School at 5 to 6. No one appeared to be there and he wondered if he had the day wrong.

"Hello Harold." He turned to see Jan running towards him. "Sorry I'm late, there was an after school meeting."

"That's ok, I just got here myself. Where are the others?"

"Inside. I told them I would be late and I would meet you here. Shall we go in?"

"Suppose so."

"You are not nervous are you?" She asked as they entered the building and began to climb the stairs.

"A little." He confessed. "I've never done anything like this before. I don't really know what to expect, or what to do or say." Jan linked his arm.

"You are such a dear man Harry. Look, the tutor's name is Francois, he is in his 40's and he is very helpful and friendly. His real name is Stanley but he prefers Francois. Don't worry, you will be fine." They came to a stop. "This is it, are you ready?"

"As I will ever be." She smiled.

"Come on then." She opened the door and they went in. It was a large, well-lit room, the walls covered with paintings. There were about 15 people in the room, most of them standing by an easel. In the middle of the room was a short, dark-haired man pacing up and down.

"How can they do this to me? They know how important it is to me and they let me down."

"Francois." Said Jan. "This is……" Before she could say more the man came over.

"My goodness." He said. "They have surpassed themselves this time. You, Sir, are a wonderful specimen."

"Francois…" Began Jan, but he waved her aside.

"You are perfect for tonight's theme." He took Harold's hand. "I will show you where to change."

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Asked Harold. "I chose it carefully."

"It is hardly suitable for Alexander the Great."

"Eh?"

"Francois, will you please listen." Said Jan. "This is my friend Harry; he has come to join the class."

"You mean he is not tonight's model?"

"No, I'm sorry." Francois' face fell.

"Then we have 2 tragedies my dears. 1, we have no life model for tonight's class, and 2, we don't have the opportunity to paint and draw this hunk." He sighed. "C'est la vie darlings." Harold turned to Jan.

"Did he think I was the model?"

"Apparently so, looks like the booked model has failed to arrive." Yvonne, Carole and Roger came over.

"Good to see you Harry, glad you could make it."

"Thank you. I was a bit nervous, but I'm ok now."

"Why don't you model for us?" Asked Carole. Harold stared at her.

"No, I couldn't possibly."

"I think you would make a splendid model." Said Roger. "Make a change to see a real man instead of some of the specimens we usually get."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes Harry, I do." Harold pondered for a minute, and then went over to Francois.

"Mr Francois."

"Oh please, just Francois."

"Francois." He cleared his throat. "If you are really stuck for a model I would be happy to fill in. Just this once you understand."

"Harry, you are a wonderful man. You have no idea what a fix you have got me out of."

"Not nude though, I couldn't do it nude."

"And you won't, I have just the thing for you. Come with me."


End file.
